The following program contains material suited for a mature audience. If you are not over 18 you should be leaving now. Of course I can't control you and neither can anyone else really. This story in complete fiction. This story in no way speculates, indicates, or reports the sexuality, the behaviour, or any relationship that anyone mentioned may have. And now for our feature presentation. Viewer Discretion is advised...
My web site is located at http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Atrium/2898.
Misery 5 by: Chip Dyp (chipdyp@hotmail.com)
I sat quietly in my hotel room, hugging my knees. The studio session had gone poorly again today. I just couldn't put any emotion behind the lyrics I was singing.
I could hear my brothers yelling as they walked down the hallway outside my room. I sighed and looked at the walls. This was my prison. It was a beautiful prison, but a prison none-the-less. I wondered what Mitchel was doing. Did he feel as bad as I did?
I hadn't meant to belittle him when I had broken up with him. He was a really nice guy, and if I didn't have this albatross of celebrity hanging around my neck, I'd still be dating him.
I stood up and went to the window. There was a knock at the door, breaking my concentration. I ignored the knock and continued looking out the window.
I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to talk to anyone.
"Scott, open the door. It's your father."
I rolled my eyes and continued looking out the window. I didn't want to see my dad. He had ripped my head off in front of everyone after I missed a note. He probably wanted to yell and scream some more. I heard the click of the door, and my father walked into the room.
"Why didn't you open the door?" My dad asked storming into the room.
"Huh, oh hi. You knocked?"
"Don't give me that crap. You heard me."
"Fine, I did. Whatever."
My dad grabbed my shoulder and whirled me around. "Listen you little shit.
Whatever your problem is, get over it. Studio time costs money. If you keep fucking things up, I'm going to take it out of your hide."
"I wasn't the only one who fucked things up," I protested. "Clint fucked up the lyrics."
"We're not talking about Clint, we're talking about you."
"We were talking about fucking things up."
"Don't you dare contradict me! You're the one who caused the problems today. You don't appreciate what you've been given. If I had been given this chance, I wouldn't be screwing around."
"If you weren't a brain dead asshole who didn't want to use a condom, you could've had this chance." I shot back.
I didn't see the blow coming. My dad's left hand connected with face, knocking me to the floor.
"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY!"
"Why not? It's the truth! You don't give a damn about what we want. All you care about is what you could've had. You want my life? Take it. I don't want it anymore."
"You ungrateful little fuck. Do you know what your mother and I have had to sacrifice to get you this opportunity?"
"I never wanted this! I never wanted to be famous. I wanted to be a normal kid. I didn't want my picture in every teen magazine."
My dad reached down and hauled me up by the collar of my shirt. He brought my face right to his and glared at me. I could feel his hot breath on my face and he tried to contain his rage. "You will pull yourself together, right now," He seethed menacingly. His hand was shaking, as he fought the urge to haul off and hit me. "We are going into the studios again tomorrow and this time you will NOT fuck things up. You will sing the right notes. You will not fuck up the lyrics and you will like it. Do you understand?"
"Yes," I whispered. The tears started rolling down my cheeks as he let go of my shirt. "Now, I've got to go back to the studio and makes sure that God damn faggot didn't fuck things up. You already sound like a pansy. You don't need him making you sound even more limp wristed."
Dad walked out of the room pausing only at the door for a moment. "You're grounded. You are not to leave this hotel room except to go with your brothers to the studio or to the set." He slammed the door shut, leaving me alone in my prison.
I walked out to my car, pulling off my tie. It was so good to be finished classes for the day. I waved to a friend, tossed my backpack onto the passenger's seat and slid into my own seat. I turned the key and the engine of my new Porsche roared to life. I gingerly backed out of my parking spot and drove out the exit, bound for home.
It had been a week since Scott had dumped me. It still hurt a little bit, but I wasn't thinking about constantly. When the song Misery started playing on the radio, my hand reached out subconsciously, ready to change to a different station. I paused, and returned my hand to the wheel. There was no reason to run and hide every time something that reminded me of Scott presented itself.
Driving up to the gate of the development, I came to a stop behind a SUV. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, and watched the security guard talk to the driver. They were having a heated discussion about something. Sighing, I rested my head on my hand and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, the driver of the SUV gave the guard the finger and turned around. He almost backed into my car. "Asshole," I muttered under my breath. I drove up to the gate and was surprised when it didn't open.
"Can you roll down your window please, sir?"
I smiled and opened the window. "What seems to be the problem?"
"We had a reported prowler in the neighbourhood. The neighbourhood committee asked us to stop all cars, and hand out these pamphlets to the residents. Also, they asked us to crack down on all non-residents not on the guest list."
I took the pink pamphlet and gave it a cursory glance. "Is that why that guy got turned away?"
"Yeah, pretentious pain in the ass. He ain't on the list, he ain't getting in," The guard replied, checking off my name on the list. "Did you get a sticker for your car yet?"
"No, I keep meaning to stop and grab one."
The guard walked back into the shack and came out with a neighbourhood pass placard. "Here you go," Cliff said, handing over the sticker. "You know the drill. If it's lost, report the loss."
"Uh huh. Thanks Cliff. Have a good day."
"You too, sir."
I drove through the gate and turned left onto my street. The car accelerated smoothly down the cement-paved street. I made another right turn and pulled into my driveway. I didn't have any plans for the weekend. I was just going to sit around, and do nothing for a change.
When my tears finally stopped, my anger surfaced. He wanted me to stay in the hotel? Fuck him, I'm going out. I grabbed some clean clothes out of my suitcase, and jumped into the shower. After quickly washing up, I dressed and opened my door. Sitting in the hallway, reading a comic was my brother Clint.
"Hey, fuckhead. You're grounded." Clint said, standing up.
"Up yours, Clint. I'm going out." I moved to walk around Clint, but he stepped into my path. "Get out of my way."
"I don't think so. Dad told me that I'm not supposed to let you go out."
"Get out of my way." I repeated, clenching my fists.
"No."
I tried to walk around Clint, but he moved to block me again. I looked Clint right in the eyes. "Fine." I turned around, making like I was going to walk back to my room, and instead spun around and decked my brother. Clint fell to the ground like a sac of potatoes. "I told you to move." I stepped over my prostrate brother and took the elevator down to the lobby.
I lay on the carpet, watching my brother as he stepped onto the elevator. 'That fucking bastard,' I thought. 'I'll show him.' I grabbed my comic book from the floor and walked back to my room. My jaw ached from the force of the of Scott's blow. I went to the phone and dialled my dad's cel number.
"Dad, it's Clint. Scott just hit me and walked out of the hotel."
"That little fucking shit. Where's he going?"
"I don't know dad. He decked me and left me laying in the middle of the hallway."
"Are you all right, Clint? Do you feel woozy or anything?"
"No, I'm fine dad. What do you want me to do about Scott?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll beat some sense into him when he comes home."
I smiled. Dad always knew how to control Scott. "All right, dad. Whatever you think is best for the band."
"You sure about this?"
"Uh huh. I heard my boss talking to one of the other executives. His son and Scott Moffat had some sort of tryst. Scott Moffat is definitely gay."
"So why aren't they going out anymore?"
"Scott was afraid it would ruin his career."
"Another closeted fag, worried about his career. You know, if these gay celebrities would come out of the closet, gay youth would have role models."
"I know, I know. So what are you going to do about it?"
"Out him of course." The reporter snubbed out his cigarette and handed over an envelope. "Thank you for your help."
"My pleasure."
"Speak of the devil," The reporter whispered, "And the devil himself appears.
The assistant looked over his shoulder at a poorly disguised Scott Moffat and smiled. "Go get him tiger."
"I will. Don't worry, he's all mine."
I walked out the hotel door and looked around. Well, I was in deep shit now. I should make the best of this little trip. Pushing my sunglasses up, I turned and walked down the street. I wanted something to eat, and then I was gonna go clubbing. Fuck Clint, fuck Dad, fuck them all. I was going to have fun tonight.
I followed Scott down the street, watching as he paused to look in shop windows. Looking into the window of a lingerie store, I watched Scott out of the corner of my eye. Pictures of this pretty boy band singer fucking around with a guy, well they'd be worth their weight in gold. The Enquirer had a standing bounty on pictures of any of these wholesome boy band members screwing around. I licked my lips and glanced down the street. Scott was moving on.
Scott kept moving down the street, pausing every so often to fix his glasses, or to look in a window. Once, I thought he noticed me following him, but he just kept walking. I watched as he walked into a little cafe. The place was almost empty. He took a seat on a stool at the counter, and looked through the menu left by the waitress. I smiled to myself and pulled out my cell phone. Dialling a number from memory, I watched Scott through the dirty glass window. The phone warbled only twice. Just long enough for Call Display to grab my number.
"Hello, beautiful. I missed you."
"I'm sure you have, Jayce. How many boys have fucked you in the past week?"
"Only two. So what's your pleasure?"
"I want you to play bait."
"Mmmm, sounds like fun. Where?"
"Joe's Cafe, corner..."
"I know where it is. I'll be there in five minutes."
"Excellent. I look forward to seeing you."
"I know you do. You want me to take him back to the photo studio?"
"Uh huh. I'll be waiting inside."
"I'll see you there."
I eased back into my chair, and changed the channel. There was never anything good on to watch on Friday night. I sighed and changed the channels again. Crap. Changed the channel again. Crap. Changed the channel yet again. Crap. I punched the power button and walked to my room.
If there was nothing to watch on television, maybe there'd be something to do online.
The cafe wasn't really busy. There were four or five of us sitting in silence. The waitress took my order and hollered through the hole in the wall at the cook. I took a sip of my water and looked around. A muscular gentleman walked in and took a seat near the door. The waitress grabbed the coffee pot and took a menu over to him. I glanced at the front page of the LA Times that had been left on the counter. The story really wasn't all that terribly interesting. It was just another case thrown out because of corrupt cops. I took another sip of my water and flipped through the paper.
I watched Scott from my seat. He had looked at me when I walked into the cafe. Now he was interested in some sort of newspaper. I smiled to myself and looked at Scott. He was very good looking. Not exactly what I was looking for, but he'd make a nice light snack. I adjusted my hidden camera on the table, making sure it got Scott in the frame. I wanted a couple of pictures of Scott when he met Jayce.
I took a sip of my coffee and pulled out a paperback novel. I needed something to do while Scott ate his supper. The door creaked open and I looked up. It was Jayce. He glanced over at me and then smiled when I nodded towards Scott. He liked 'em young. I watched as he walked up to Scott. He said something that was inaudible, but Scott smiled at him and gestured for him to sit down. So far, so good.
I took the proffered seat and looked over at my prey. He was fairly good looking. I looked through the menu and ordered a plate of fries from the waitress.
"So, what are you in town for?" I asked, taking a sip of my coke.
"How do you know that I'm not from LA?"
"Just a hunch. You're too polite."
Scott smiled at me, and took a sip of his water. "I'm in town with my dad and brothers for a bit of a holiday."
"Seeing the sights?"
"Sort of. You from around here?"
"Yeah, I was born here. I love LA."
"It's a nice place." Scott paused when the waitress dropped his hamburger down in front of him. "So what do you do?"
"I'm in the entertainment industry. I want to be an actor, though."
Scott smiled and pulled the hair out of his eyes. "Have you been in anything?"
"Nope. Well, actually I was an extra in Lethal Weapon 4."
"Was it fun?"
"Yeah, it was. Can I ask you a question?"
Scott nodded and took a bite of his burger.
"Are you gay?"
Scott coughed and grabbed for his water. He took a quick drink and looked at me. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, I find it's better to be honest and open. I'm gay, and I have to admit that I sat down here because I was hoping that you were too."
"Ohhh-- uhhhh."
"You are gay, aren't you?" Scott looked around nervously. This was making him uncomfortable. "Look Scott. I promise I won't tell a soul. I know you have a career to protect."
"What?"
"Your disguise didn't fool me, Scott. Why don't you and I go back to my apartment, and I'll blow your mind. And then, when you're done, you can go back to your dad and your brother's and no one will be the wiser."
"I--, I--," Scott stuttered.
"Why don't I give you a few minutes to think about it? I've got to go to the bathroom. When I get back, if you don't want to do it, I'll leave you alone."
"Uh..."
I didn't give Scott a chance to answer. I stood up and walked over to the bathroom, leaving him to ponder his options. This wasn't the way I usually did things, but I really didn't want to take all night seducing him. He'd probably be a lively fuck. I was in the bathroom for less than 30 seconds when the door opened again.
"Hello, Jayce. How's it going?"
"I've cast the hook, just waiting for him to snap up the bait."
"Excellent." Rob leaned forward and kissed me forcefully. When he broke the kiss, he smacked my ass and smiled. "After I've gotten some pictures of you and Scott doing the nasty, why don't I show you how a real man has sex?"
I caressed Rob's hardening cock, and smiled. "Sounds like fun. Everything in the night stands?"
"Uh huh. Condoms, lube, and some other stuff. I'll give you $1000 if he fucks you, $5000 if you fuck him, and $2500 if you sixty-nine."
"$8500, huh. I want cash."
"You'll get cash."
"I guess I should go see if he's up for a little fun," I said. I washed my hands and smiled at Rob. "And you should get back to the studio and get the cameras ready."
"Good luck."
"I don't need luck with this body."
I sat on the stool, thinking. Jayce was good looking, and the thought of having sex with him was appealing, but could I trust him? What if he ran to the press with his story? "No one would believe him," I whispered to myself. "Unless he had proof. And if he didn't have proof, I could do it and no one would be the wiser."
"So, did you think about it?" Jayce sat down on the stool next to me.
"Yeah, I did." I smiled at him. "Let me finish my burger and we can get going."
Jayce smiled back at me and put his hand on my thigh. He began caressing my trembling leg, giggling as I started breathing heavier. "You like?"
"Let's go now. I'm not really hungry."
Jayce took my hand and we walked out of the little diner. A few people looked at us as we walked out, but it was kinda liberating. As I walked down the street with Jayce, I thought about Mitchel. I wished that I could still be with him, but it wasn't to be. My brothers had it right; quickie sex with anonymous people was the only release that we could hope for.
I clicked on the banner ad, and looked at the free images as they came up on the screen. It wasn't a great site, but the porn stars were barely legal. I clicked on another link and groaned when it asked for an adult verification password. I was hard, desperate, and looking for release. This was the twelfth site that I had tried to get into, and I had been turned away by every one of them. I sighed and walked over to my bed. I grabbed my pants and pulled out my wallet. My dad had given me a credit card for emergencies. I looked at the Platinum MasterCard for about a minute, trying to decide whether I should use it. I sat back down at the computer and entered the 16 digits that would unlock my porn fix. I looked at the screen for another minute and then clicked the ok button.
A week ago, I had someone that I loved in my bed. I had suckled on his cock, taking his thick cum. He had taken my cum without complaint. He had offered me his virginity. Now I was so desperate for release that I was using my dad's credit card to download porn so I'd have something to jerk off with.
I smiled at Scott as we walked into the apartment. This is where Rob had taken so many pictures of beautiful people without them ever knowing. He had outted a couple of celebrities when they had walked into his little web.
And here was his third. All I had to do was set him up.
Once we were safely in the apartment, I turned and began kissing Scott. He seemed a little hesitant. He was getting cold feet. Desperate to prevent him from leaving, I reached into his pants and began stroking his cock.
Scott backed away from me slightly. He didn't pull my hand out of his pants, but he certainly wasn't encouraging me either. I knew he was right on the cusp. I popped the button on his pants, and kissed him even more passionately. I wanted my $8500, and Scott was going to help me earn it, whether he liked it or not.
When I pushed Scott's underwear down, he broke off the kiss and pulled away from me completely. "I'm sorry, Jayce. I just can't do this."
"Sure you can, baby. You just need a little reassuring."
"I-- I just can't--"
There was a loud bang, as a picture covering a camera fell to the floor. Scott looked at where the picture had been hanging, and his eyes opened wide. He yanked up his pants and sprinted from the apartment. I sighed and watched as Rob came out of hiding and followed Scott, wearing a backpack loaded with his camera gear. I shook my head and walked out of the apartment. I wouldn't be making any money tonight.
How could I be so stupid? I should've known better! What was I going to do now? I couldn't go back to the hotel--Dad was there. I couldn't go back to Jayce unless I wanted my picture on the cover of every paper from LA to New York. The tears began rolling down my cheek as I entered the warm night air. I walked into the street and waved down a passing cab.
As I slid into the cab, I realized that there was only one place I could go. I had to see Mitchel. I had to tell him that I loved him.
I was swearing to myself as Scott hopped into a cab. How could I be such a klutz? If I hadn't banged into the wall, Scott and Rob would've been fucking like bunnies by now. As it was, I had no pictures of Scott in a compromising position. I had nothing to sell the tabloids.
I jumped into my own car and followed Scott. That little shit wasn't going to get away from me that easily. I was going to have my pictures, by hook or by crook.
Continued.